Hunger Pains
by Aiyana Torres
Summary: Chakotay makes banana pancakes but doesn't believe in sharing with B'Elanna.


Title: Hunger Pains  
Author: Briana L. Wright  
Rating: R  
Codes: C/T humor  
Author's notes: B'Elanna Torres likes banana pancakes. Coincidentally, after years of forced ingestion of the stuff, so do I. The phrase, _favor con favor se paga, _is the Spanish equivalent of the proverb "If you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours". Why do I use Spanish in my C/T fiction, you ask? Because one, B'Elanna's father _is_ of Hispanic ethnicity and two, because I can. Thanks to Carol for her feedback.  
SUMMARY: Chakotay makes banana pancakes, but doesn't believe in sharing with B'Elanna. Bad move, silly man.

B'Elanna rolled over in bed. Her sense of smell was reviving her from sleeping bliss. As she stretched lazily, the familiar scent of bananas made its way to her nose. That can only be one thing, she thought. Banana pancakes--and fresh from the replicator, too. Wide awake, she decided she wanted some.

Flinging the covers off with hopeless abandon, she made her way to the kitchen. "Chakotay?" When he didn't answer, she spied him leaning against the counter, selfishly eating what should have rightfully been hers. "Nice of you to wake me up." He smirked at her annoyance. "And spoil my solitude? I don't think so. Besides, you looked so peaceful...snoring away, taking up all the covers."

B'Elanna crossed her arms. "I do not snore."

"Of course you don't," he said, taking a bite of pancakes. "You just breathe_ really_ loud." He chuckled as he chewed, provoking another irritated expression from her. With her taste buds watering and the pungent aroma of banana too intense to ignore, B'Elanna approached him none too politely. "Give me some," she demanded. 

Chakotay considered her a moment, then said, "No," and took in another forkful just to spite her.

The half-Klingon glared at his audacity. "How can you make banana pancakes and not offer me any?"

"Very carefully," he mumbled.

_Smart-ass Indian, _she thought bitterly.Hungry and impatient, B'Elanna lunged for his plate, but he quickly dodged her in time. "You wouldn't even be eating them if it weren't for me!" she cried. Chakotay turned way from her, putting distance between himself and his clearly agitated lover. "Maybe if you had gotten up early enough, _you_ could've made some yourself instead of assuming that _I_ would be willing to share."

Torres' last nerve was wearing very thin. She stood with her hands on her hips. "Funny you should say that after it was _you_ who insisted I move in. And what about the lecture you gave me, huh? 'What's yours is mine, and what's mine is yours'? _Favor con favor se paga?"_ she reiterated in her father's Spanish. "Don't tell me you were bullshitting me, Chakotay."

Chakotay had to laugh at the degree of seriousness she was taking all of this. It wasn't the first time he had taken liberties with her personal delicacies and certainly not the first time he'd done so in her presence. "It's only food, B'Elanna."

Her eyes shot daggers at him. _"Is it,_ Chakotay?" She stressed his name with a clenched jaw.

His only response was a heavy sigh. She watched him drop his fork and a quiet cry of victory went off in her head. _"Fine,"_ he spat, frowning. B'Elanna got close enough to finally grab his plate--

--just as Chakotay did the unexpected.

"If you want some THAT bad, you'll have to rip them out of my cold, dead hands!" 

He bolted.

"Son of a bitch!" B'Elanna yelled, her brain barely registered his sudden choice of flight over fight. 

Fueled by utter shock and rage, she ran after him with more intent to kill him rather than to bother with the food. "You p'tak!" she threatened behind him. Laughing all the way, Chakotay weaved her through the living room, tossing pillows and pushing chairs over to slow her down. In his excitement, he barely made it over the coffee table. He hadn't been this amused by her temper in a long time. 

He had succeeded in keeping her at bay until he made the mistake of going into the bedroom, where space was compromised and there was only so much furniture to barricade her from the pancakes he had in tow. 

"No place to hide now, Nature Boy. Hand it over or else!" 

He leapt onto the bed and teetered side to side on the mattress, taunting her. His cruel smile infuriated her even more. "Or else _what_, Miss Torres?"

"Or else I'll have your balls on a platter!"

"Sticks and stones--" Chakotay patronized.

"The more for me to beat you with!"

Now he was laughing. "It is too early for you to be acting THIS hostile."

"Well maybe if I had EATEN by now, I wouldn't have REASON to be hostile, would I?"

Chakotay winked at her. "You're beautiful when you're angry."

She shot him another predatory look. "Then I'll be GORGEOUS by the time I'm through with you, Chakotay. You're really _sick,_ you know that?"

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at her. "Oh, but you love every minute of it."

B'Elanna ignored him. She was done chasing. _"Give me_ the damn pancakes," she ordered, sticking out a hand for emphasis. _So help me, _she thought, glaring at Chakotay. 

He eyed her, pursing his lips as though waiting for something.

"Ugh. Fine!" Torres relented. "Can I PLEASE have them? I'm starving, for God sake."

Chakotay's lips slowly curled into a smile. "That's all you had to say." He presented the plate to her. B'Elanna eyed him suspiciously. "I suppose after all this you think I poisoned them?"

"You'd kill me in my sleep if you thought you had half a chance." She reached for a pancake. Chakotay moved the plate away again. "Now you've gone and insulted me. I don't think--" But B'Elanna had anticipated his escape this time. She tackled him before he could even think about making a run for it. As the two of them hit the bed, the pancakes were airborne. 

With a flop, they landed on the carpet floor.

B'Elanna tried to clamber her way off of Chakotay, but he kept her from going anywhere. He was quick to overtake her body with his. "No you don't," he warned. He held her hips down with his own as he took hold of her arms and pinned them above her head. She screamed in frustration. "What do I have to do to get some food around here!" Her muscles struggled against his restraint. He chuckled in spite of himself. "Laugh it up all you want, Chakotay, but as soon as I get a hold of you..."

Chakotay grinned down at her. "IF you get a hold of me, coward."

Not even a half-Klingon would put up with having their honor insulted--certainly not one B'Elanna Torres. That was the last straw. B'Elanna's right arm suddenly whipped out of Chakotay's grasp. She tried to gather all of her strength in an effort to shove him off of her, but she failed, and she cursed him.

Just as Chakotay tried to get hold on her wrist again, she knocked him off his balance. In their melee, they'd both forgotten that there was only so much room to wrestle on a bed. With each attack, they were drawn closer and closer. One more pounce from B'Elanna sent them both over the edge.

There was a loud thud as they hit the floor. Chakotay lie aching in two places: his face and his back. B'Elanna had landed hard atop him.

They panted loudly, trading insults between breaths. "Greedy woman," Chakotay spat.

"Thief," B'Elanna countered. He felt her hips rock against his, whether by intention or mere coincidence.

"Liar." 

He felt it again.

"Your ancestors." 

And again. And again.

A few more passed and they found themselves eye to eye, practically at the ready to strangle each other. Only as an afterthought, could Chakotay feel himself hardening under the pressure her persistent motion was creating. Eventually, he quieted. 

In light of his silence, B'Elanna taunted him. "Give up?"

He gave her a seductive smile. "Never." His chest rose and fell as he could feel his desire building. B'Elanna, too, was becoming aroused by their rough-and-tumble session. Some of their best times had been spent this way: bruising the other's ego until clothing was strewn about. Soon she was also aware of the stiffness beneath her hips. 

She straddled him, resting her hands on his chest. "Something tells me you're not exactly hungry for food right now." Her voice was husky.

"You don't say," he countered, equally lustful.

"I do." Her face hovered inches above his.

Suddenly, she flicked the tip of his nose with her tongue and grinned with relish. He remained perfectly still as she proceeded further up his face between his eyes, up to his forehead--deliberately dragging her tongue along his skin in a territorial display. She tasted his sweat on her tongue. It exhilarated her.

"Funny," she purred as she lifted her tank top over her head, "Somehow I've lost my appetite, too."

Chakotay found that the ache in his back was replaced by the urgency in his loins as his eyes fell upon her breasts. He forgot all about their previous tensions as he rolled her onto her back. "We'll see about that."

Some time later, B'Elanna awoke to the sound of rustling in the kitchen. "Chakotay," she called after him lazily, "come back to bed."

Within minutes, he returned bearing a food tray with none other than her favorite treat. "After a workout like that, you really should eat."

She tried to muster the best sympathetic smile she could. "But I'm not hungry."

Chakotay's face fell, dead-pan.

Burying herself in the covers, B'Elanna Torres giggled with delight.


End file.
